Adventures of Mark the Cock Hound

By Mark Jacker

Published on Feb 9, 2011

Gay

In 1982 I was studying Italian in Perugia, the language and the men. I had many very intense encounters in the parks bathrooms and night time cruising spots around town. Unfortunately Perugia is a very small university town and in the winter it is very cold. Most Italian towns had very cruisy restrooms but not Perugia. Midway during my stay I had the opportunity to travel to the South which in almost all cases of train travel involved a stop over and a train change in the big Stazione Roma Termini. Unlike Florence Bologna Milan Venice and Pisa cruising in Rome was very furtive and not altogether safe. On previous visits to Rome I had sampled the hot Italians who frequented the Circus Maximus, a spot that was even hot in the time of the Ceasars. I was probably enjoying men whose ancestors had sucked cock in the very spot I was standing.

This visit however I wanted to try something I had never done before. A friend had told me that another place that was very active at night was Villa Caprese south of the forum.

Since I could postpone my journey at least for enough time to get a blowjob or a good fuck I decided to wend my way to this storied spot.

The piazza in front of this temple was very well lit. To the right of the temple was a shady park less well lit with a number of men in various stages of relaxation. This definitely had the look of a Gay cruising spot. I circumspectly approached the park which appeared to be one of Rome's smaller hills, a park which began in a cobble stoned road then quickly dissipated into many small trails. It reminded me in a curious way of the Ramble of New York's Central Park or San Francisco's infamous Buena Vista Park, places I had spent many happy hours in sunshine shade and darkness both giving and receiving head. Things looked promising.

But there must have been something wrong with the way I was cruising. Roman queers appeared to be much more ambivalent, much less ready to get down to business. Maybe it was my Americanisms. Perhaps I was too rushed or too aggressive; I would start to cruise someone who looked like a willing partner only to find it fizzle.

Finally I met someone who seemed willing to have some fun. We talked for a bit stroking each other's Levi covered cocks and he invited me out of the park and into his car. I had participated in these uncomfortable car gropes and blow jobs often. I had hoped for something a little more comfortable and commodious. Just about the time we had unbuttoned our Levis revealing our hardons we noticed tremendous commotion erupting in the park. All of sudden Gay men of all ages were running out of the park streaming into the piazza like cockroaches when the light is turned on in a filthy apartment. To me, who had never witnessed a police raid on this scale it was terrifying.

My new sex buddy and I quickly rebuttoned our Levis over our shrinking cocks and he said the magic words "Let's go to my place." As much as I like outdoor risky sex at this point with the Roman authorities in unfriendly pursuit, going to his house seemed like a very good idea. We drove through the streets more or less recovering the tracks I had laid on my trek from the station. When we arrived at his apartment house he suggested we smoke some hashish in the car before going in. I was familiar with marijuana as an excellent aphrodisiac, but I had never smoked hash, still I thought what can it hurt, it might make the sex even hotter. I had no idea it was so much stronger the American stuff I had sampled. After a while as the buzz got stronger and stronger my new found friend became very paranoid. He apologetically told me that we could not go inside, that like all single Roman men he lived with Mama. Perhaps it would have been a sexual disaster but I was very disappointed. I got out of the car more stoned than I had ever been. I decided to return to the raided park to see if conditions had improved since the Police scattering.

To get back to the park I had to walk through a very long tunnel and walking anywhere stoned as I was, was proving much more difficult than I expected. Then even more alarming, as I approached the end of the tunnel I discovered a police checkpoint and now I thought I was really in trouble. Fortunately they either ignored or did not notice my degree of inebriation and let me pass. When I got back the park it appeared that any hope of finding someone to play with had evaporated. I began a long hopeless journey not knowing where I was going until at around 4 in the morning I stumbled on an oddly lit blue shaded ruin. In spite of my stoned disheveled state a guy in car cruised me. Perhaps my ship had come in.

I got in the car and our mutual Gaydar recognized each other's desperate desire to find a sex partner. He started to fondle my dick and I knew things were looking up. He was a hot good looking guy out looking for Mr. Right Now and since I appeared to be doing the same thing we seemed a perfect match. He was eager and it did not take long once we arrived at his apartment to disrobe and begin exploring each other fondling sucking snorting poppers and eventually discovering that he was a bottom and I was a more than willing top. Starting in his living room we moved to the bed for some deep and penetrating fucking. But once I came in his ass and he on my abs he was ready for me to go. Just about this time the munchies from the hash were hitting me big time. I begged him for some sugar and he generously supplied me with some stale cookies. Well at least it was sugar. Then half expecting him to offer to give me a ride since he had picked me up in his car, I asked him for a lift to the train station. It was time to finish the journey I had postponed for some fun in Rome. But he was home naked sated and I then found worried his lover would find out he had been catting around if he came home and found the car hood was warm. In my bleary drugged state I would have to find my way to the train station with the commuters going to work. They were rested I was a wreck after my night of Roman revels and debauchery, I felt like I had returned to the Rome of Caligula at least for a night.

Comments to markjacker@gmail.com

Next: Chapter 8: From Novitiate to New Orleans


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